


Shadow

by AnnieGrimmons101



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Espionage, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Oral Sex, Platonic Cuddling, Shapeshifting, Suicidal Tendencies, Uther Finds Out About Merlin's Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 10:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieGrimmons101/pseuds/AnnieGrimmons101
Summary: The King has trouble sleeping, but which widower would sleep easy? A kind little servant decides to ease the pain left by the Queen's loss.





	Shadow

Late at night is the worst time of day for King Uther. There is nothing to do and no one to talk to, and sleep is evading him once again. He wishes so fiercely for a lover who has been dead for more than twenty years, and can almost imagine her still being in his bed. Maybe it was all a bad dream. Maybe he is a man in his prime again, and if he turns around his lovely Ygraine will be beside him where she belongs.

It’s a nice thought, but the reality smashes down on him and leaves him crushed, shattered, ground to a powder as he turns and sees the empty bed. She has been gone for twenty-one years; why would the bed suddenly be full?

His arm is hanging off the edge of his bed, and usually that wouldn’t matter, but something warm touches his wrist, latches onto his cuff. He jerks his arm back, and that warm something detaches and sails right into his chest. Bump. It falls into his lap. Wriggles. Attaches itself to his shirt and climbs up him. In the low light, Uther can’t see what it is at all, and so he grabs the tiny thing in one firm hand and plucks it off his clothes. Tiny needles stab into his hand, but they barely even hurt, and as Uther struggles to find somewhere to put the furry thing, it  _ mews _ .

He has been panicking about a goddamn kitten. 

Dignity thoroughly destroyed anyway, Uther cups the squirming little thing close to his chest and makes sure he hasn’t hurt it. “Mew,” it says when he strokes it, and he decides it’s probably fine. 

“How did you get in here?” he asks it, but it only mews in reply. Uther lets it stick to his shirt while he attempts to light a candle, and it seems to watch him in interest. The tiny kitten is black with startling sapphire eyes, cute little whiskers, and a wiggling little nose. It sniffs at him curiously, then lets him hold it again. While he can’t really tell due to the size, Uther decides to refer to his new friend as a male cat until he’s certain either way. 

And he names it Shadow.

Shadow seems to like the name, curling against Uther’s chest contentedly even once he is laying down again, and its tiny purrs and tiny breaths and tiny heartbeat work like a soothing lullaby. Uther may or may not kiss its head in thanks as he falls asleep. 

 

There is no Shadow in the morning. How such a tiny kitten could get away from him is a mystery, so Uther spends a few frantic moments making sure he didn’t crush the poor thing in his sleep. He doesn’t seem to have, as there is no kitten in his bed or around it, so he relaxes and dresses for the day. Shadow must have daily obligations as well, though he is a little small for such responsibilities. And then Uther realizes he must have gone mad overnight, because he’s thinking about a kitten like a person. With a heavy sigh, he finishes readying himself to be King.

 

It’s remarkably late when Uther gets back home, and he falls into bed without even undressing. A small tug on the corner of his cloak makes him look over the edge of the bed. On the floor is Shadow, attempting to climb the expensive fabric without damaging it. Uther just picks Shadow up and drops him on his chest. The kitten uses its little teeth and clumsy paws to try to undo the laces of Uther’s robe and vest. With a sigh, Uther does it himself, tossing the layers upon layers of fabric off his bed, and finally once he has his trousers off and is in nothing but an undershirt, Shadow climbs back onto him and starts to sniff at his face. Shadow’s nose is a little wet, and he seems to be trying to get Uther’s attention for some reason.

“What do you  _ want _ ,” Uther huffs, snatching Shadow into one hand and standing up. The kitten wriggles out of his grasp and falls to the floor, then starts to tap-tap-tap his way out of Uther’s bedchambers and into his private dining room. Uther sighs tiredly and follows. 

A place at the table is set for Uther. An unopened bottle of good wine shines in the low candlelight. A steaming meal is spread beautifully over Uther’s dining table, with warm dishes of pretty much everything. Uther never actually eats this rich except at banquets or when eating supper with Arthur and Morgana. He glances around for who could have done this, but of course, his rooms are empty. 

“Mew,” Shadow says proudly. Uther lifts the kitten onto his lap as he sits down, and before he can so much as admire his selections, Shadow ends up on the table. He noses at a glass bottle and mews pleadingly, causing King Uther to pick it up and unstopper it.  _ Oh _ . The bottle is full of thick cream.  _ Kitten food _ , Uther reasons, pouring some into the tiny dish next to his own plate. “Mew-mew-mew,” insists Shadow, trying to get around his master’s hand and to the bowl. When he gets his little nose into the milk, he purrs loud and happy, his tail lifting as Uther strokes down his back. 

“Who did all this, do you suppose,” mutters Uther to the kitten, finally reaching for the basket of bread rolls. There is a butter dish and a jar of sweet jam next to the basket, which Uther discovers that he likes quite a bit. Shadow gives off cute grunts while he drinks up his cream. Even Cook cannot make rolls this light and airy; Uther feels some unexplainable need to promote whoever baked these for him. Meanwhile, Shadow is licking the last of the milk off his whiskers, still purring loudly. 

“Taste good?” Uther asks the little kitten, as his tiny paws carry him along the table towards the butter dish. Not wanting to just let Shadow plant his face into the butter, Uther puts a bit on his finger and lets Shadow lick it off with his scratchy little tongue. Seeming satisfied, Shadow tumbles back down into Uther’s lap, purring from warmth and a full belly. 

The other dishes have vegetables bathed in juice and spices. There is a platter of meats that includes chicken, duck, and rabbit. A whole plate is covered in red apples and grapes, and of course the wine is excellent. Uther thinks he might fall asleep at the table, but there is one more covered dish to be had. Shadow reminds him of it by waking up, climbing up onto the table again, and bouncing around it excitedly. The King lifts off the cover and breathes in the scents of cherry and warm pastries. What seem like miniature cherry pies --  _ five  _ of them -- disappear into Uther’s stomach without hesitation.

And then, of course, being filled up of food and good wine, Uther is unbelievably sleepy. He picks up Shadow and carries the wriggling kitten back into his bedchambers. 

Someone has tucked a warmer at the foot of Uther’s bed and laid out a soft nightshirt for him to change into. He stares stupidly for a moment, wondering how someone managed to creep in unannounced, but then Uther realizes his generous donor must be a servant. Only a servant with a heart of gold would do any of this for him. Before Uther can decide he needs to stay up until he discovers who this mystery servant is, Shadow jumps free of his grasp and bounces in circles around the nightshirt. Obediently, Uther peels off his current undershirt and trades it out for the satin one.

Shadow curls against him, purring happily, and Uther tucks him close. It’s nice to be thought about.

 

Over the next two weeks, Uther becomes accustomed to hearty suppers after working late. The mysterious someone always finds a way to sneak into his chambers and tidy things, lay out more comfortable clothes, bring meals, and they even draw hot baths for Uther once or twice. Shadow comes to visit at roughly the same time every night, and though Uther has been suspicious, the kitten’s arrival does not usually coincide with the rest of it. If anything, he figures, Shadow is summoned by the scent of food. 

 

_ But apparently not always _ , thinks Uther as Shadow bounds towards him in broad daylight. He bats around Uther’s legs and tries to lead his master back the way he came from. The Knight who Uther has been talking to bows and excuses himself at the kitten’s antics, which gives Uther the opportunity to follow the clever little pile of fur. Shadow dashes forward, and gods be damned if the King doesn’t jog to keep up, and somehow he ends up in a very  _ dark  _ passage in the walls. Briefly, Uther wonders if he is insane for chasing a cat, but then he sees the crack in the wall which lets light through. He peers through it, and holds his breath in horror.

There’s a  _ witch  _ in one of the guest rooms. She is enchanting a goblet, which she sets down on the side table with a matching second one. And then, in a horrible display of power, the witch assumes the visage of one of Uther’s oldest friends, Lady Ife. Only Uther could know that everything was all wrong; Ife never wears jewelry unless it is gold, she hates the color green, and her hair is never done in that style, but to anybody else, the castle has an unexpected honored guest.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Uther backs away and almost trips over Shadow. Such a clever, clever kitten… The King wonders if he can officially reward a cat for outing a sorcerer, but has too much on his mind at the moment. He scoops Shadow off the floor of the passage and dashes to inform the guards that Lady Ife is an imposter and is to be arrested on sight. 

When caught, the witch threatens Arthur with just about every sort of incurable disease in the book, and swears that someone, somehow, when Uther isn’t paying attention, will get his precious son. He throws her in the dungeons and burns her at dawn, with Shadow tucked into his chest and mewling in fear at the fire.

An unfortunate parallel is drawn that morning, because Uther is thinking about his son: Arthur almost always goes to bed at the same time every night, which happens to coincide with the time Shadow visits. And, while both Shadow and Arthur are present at the burning,  _ Merlin  _ is not. The same boy who has dragged, prodded, and nagged the Prince into surviving getting knifed, getting eaten by magic snakes, getting poisoned, and accidentally eloping. He also somehow provided a sword that could kill the unkillable, one Uther himself wielded, and helped Gaius discover a tincture to cure Arthur from an inevitable death from the Questing Beast. It’s just too many coincidences…

 

_ How does one confront a cat? _

Uther doesn’t think he has ever had a dumber thought, especially not while trying to listen to his advisors, but for some reason he cannot convince himself to confront Merlin. Coincidences, of course, are not proof, and Uther would much rather make a fool of himself in private with just a kitten than he would in court. Knowing that Merlin is Gaius’s ward, and knowing Gaius, Uther would leave the throne room wanting to jump off the parapets due to his own stupidity. 

He tries to “confront” Shadow when he visits that night. It’s about twenty minutes after Arthur said he was heading off to bed, which means Merlin is off work until tomorrow morning. And therefore free to transform into a cat and… cuddle Uther to sleep? No, this is  _ beyond  _ stupid. Merlin may have a heart of gold, but he can’t even  _ look  _ at his King without his knees knocking together. 

Shadow mews and purrs around his nightly cream, then curls up in Uther’s lap while the King does paperwork late into the night. Finally, Uther bites the bullet and places the snoozing kitten on his desk. He writes out the happenstances that Merlin has been a part of, as well as the connection he found between Merlin and Shadow. The kitten watches in interest, then bats at the quill playfully. Uther sighs in defeat. 

Except… Shadow  _ keeps  _ batting the quill. When he starts to meow, the King pays attention to him. Uther puts the quill back to the paper in confusion, and an invisible force moves it across the page in handwriting that is not Uther’s own. 

**_Born this way_ ** , it reads. No begs for mercy, no denials, no  _ just plain pretending he is an ordinary cat _ , no. Merlin calmly outed himself as something that Uther doesn’t think actually exists, and is now washing his cute face with a paw. When Shadow --  _ Merlin  _ \-- notices his master’s confusion, the quill starts moving again.  **_I’ll burn faster in fur_ ** , the paper now says bluntly, like it’s the most average way of thinking, and then Merlin adds,  **_there’s a fireplace right there_ **

**_You could throw me in now_ **

**_No one would know_ **

**_No one_ **

“Okay, stop,” demands Uther, picking Merlin up by the scruff and glaring him down. “There is something wrong with you.”

**_I’m a warlock_ ** , the paper says now.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

**_Also I’m part druid_ **

“Merlin, listen to me,” Uther growls, but finds he has nothing to actually say.

**_Don’t you care?_ **

**_I could kill him_ ** , threatens the page.  **_Just a flick of the wrist. I wouldn’t even need a spell_ **

“Shut. Up.” 

The quill does not move.

“You’re  _ manipulating  _ me. And not even to do your bidding, to  _ kill you _ ! You’ve gone mental and I’m not enjoying it! Where’s the-the… crushing plagues, and the famines, and the death threats? What is  _ keeping you _ from poisoning the food and killing the whole citadel? Hell, all you would have to do is make sure Gaius dies as well, and then we’re  _ all  _ damned. You, Merlin,  _ cannot  _ be a sorcerer.”

**_What am I_ **

Uther does not know, but Merlin is not even  _ mildly sly _ ; sorcerers are  _ pure evil _ , no matter what.

**_Am I a monster_ **

**_Am I a traitor to my kind for letting you live_ **

**_Maybe I’m an evil sorcerer_ **

**_Because regular sorcerers want Camelot destroyed_ **

**_And I don’t_ **

**_And they hate me_ **

**_I don’t belong anywhere_ **

**_I’m a monster_ **

Uther sighs and cups Merlin in his hands. All he has to do is  _ squish  _ and a sorcerer’s skeleton will get snapped. He would be dead in an instant; Merlin is right, no one would know. Arthur and Gaius would assume the boy ran away, and they would relay such to the rest of the castle. Hunith would receive a letter from Gaius asking if he had returned home, and slowly but surely they would mourn his loss and forget him. It would be only a fitting end for a boy everyone loves so much -- no heartbreak, no tears. 

Except Uther has accidentally become attached to his little kitten, and now knowing that it’s the same boy who has saved Arthur’s life so many times, and by extension the same person who keeps taking care of the King’s chambers and fixing him meals, there’s no way Uther can even pull his innocent little tail. Instead, he grabs the paper and crumples it up, tossing it in the fire and burning it in Merlin’s place. The kitten watches by his foot, and mews sadly up at Uther once the parchment is fully reduced to ashes.

“Can you turn back into you?” asks Uther tiredly, and when all Merlin does is sniff his boot and mew again, Uther groans quietly and picks him up. He drops him next to the water basin outside his changing partition, which he steps around to undress. After all, Uther is now aware the kitten is human and is staring, and Uther isn’t exactly proud of his scars. A sizzling noise from beyond the partition bothers Uther a little, but he doesn’t really think on it; he knows what burning flesh smells like. 

A hot cloth presses against the back of Uther’s neck, and he feels youthful hands slowly rub him down. The old battle wound on Uther’s shoulder is treated with the utmost care, and then the rest of him is gently washed. It feels like the stress from the last few days is being wiped away. Maybe it is. Uther turns, only in his shorts, to see that Merlin has transitioned back into his human self. Neither of them say anything. Uther burned Merlin’s confession; he holds no anger towards him. Merlin seems to be showing his gratitude in the only way he knows how: servitude. 

He washes every part of Uther with careful, respectful hands, even though the King has never had help with bathing because he thinks it’s too intimate a gesture. Obviously, Arthur gets it rather often, since Merlin knows very well what he is doing.  Merlin makes a silent motion requesting that his King sit down, and when Uther obliges, a wave of the sorcerer’s hand brings a bucket of steaming, fragrant water, some washing cloths, two towels, and soap. Uther slips his feet into the basin when prompted, sighing at the blessed heat, and then feels Merlin’s careful hands rubbing his aching feet.

“A kitten isn’t the only thing I can do.”

Uther opens his eyes and looks down. Merlin is not looking at him, and offers no explanation. “How do you mean,” murmurs the King while his feet are respectfully lathered with soap. 

“... I can be any size. Any kind of cat. Lion, panther, cheetah… bobcat… serval… Any cat.”

“Jaguar,” requests Uther dreamily, as hot water rinses away the soap suds.

“That too,” Merlin confirms, not understanding. 

“No, become one,” the King clarifies, looking down at Merlin to watch the transition. 

Merlin looks up at him, still on his knees, his hands coated with a second lather of soap, blue sleeves rolled up to his elbows, usual neckerchief gone, and an odd glare in his eyes. “I’m a little busy,” he huffs, waving his hands at the bucket of water. 

Uther hums his assent and says, “Later, then…”

Merlin’s deft hands return to work, smoothing up Uther’s shins with soap and washcloths as hot steam wafts up into the air from the bucket. As Merlin works, magic begins to unlace Uther’s shorts and pull them down his legs. The servant maneuvers them off so he can continue to wash up his master’s legs. 

Wet heat encloses Uther’s most secretive region. He jolts and looks down to see Merlin mouthing reverently at his kingly length as he continues to scrub his feet. All the stress Uther can tangibly remember starts to leak out of his body as Merlin works. The boy sucks hard towards the end, gladly taking in his king’s release as yet another act of servitude that no true sorcerer could ever bring themself to offer. Merlin cannot be real. 

Once Merlin finishes his task, he helps Uther into satin pajamas and then settles him into bed. Uther rubs his eyes, still not quite comprehending everything that is happening. When he looks back up, there is a black jaguar cub rearing up to jump into his bed. Merlin springs up and curls around Uther’s lap. His little paws start to knead at Uther’s leg, claws being ever so careful not to prick him. 

The King sighs and strokes Merlin’s soft head. “Shall I still call you Shadow, then?” wonders Uther as Merlin settles in for the night. He smiles a little to himself and closes his eyes, welcoming sleep. “... No need for anyone else to know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Genetically, domestic black cats cannot have blue eyes. Merlin's lovely blue eyes carry over, which, if the King had been versed in the hereditary traits of felines, would have been fairly obvious to him from the start. Fortunately for Merlin, His Majesty doesn't often find time to sit down and read scientific journals.


End file.
